the fetus ate my homework

34 & 35 weeks; astoria, NY

Oct. 5:  34 weeks. Little fetus Froo Froo is the size of a butternut squash.  Finally!  Not that I needed her to be the size of said vegetable, but it is the cutest-sounding vegetable to which she has now been compared.  Also, we receive another bag of clothes from another generous family.  My kid has a more extensive wardrobe than I do.  (Well, let's be honest, I rotate three pairs of stretch pants and four tops these days, so I'm hardly competition.)

 Plus, these goodies arrive from soon-to-be Aunt Kelly in Prague.  (Isn't our baby so European?)

Aaaaand we're gonna breeze through some of this pregnancy blog because -may I be frank?  I just don't have it in me.  What I do have in me is a person.  A person who rolls.  A person who rolls and stretches in my very confined midsection.  I know it's sorta a "dog-ate-my-homework" kind of excuse, but really, people, a rolling stretching person inside you makes it hard to focus, so these entries are brief:

Oct 6:  I got this day in one word-  insomnia.

Oct 7:  The only way to sleep on my side now is by using my hand as a kickstand.  Can you even picture what I'm talking about?  Imagine that I am an inflated beach ball on a mattress.  See how a kickstand could help?  No?  Okay.  Don't bother.


Oct 8:  I am now visibly pregnant enough that an orange-haired, wide-pant-legged girl with several piercings in her face gave me her subway seat.  Girls are winning at Seat Sacrifice.

Oct 9:  skillet + pregnant belly = fire hazard and small scald.

Oct 10:  4 year wedding anniversary.

Oct. 11:  We celebrate our four years of marriage with a day trip to Long Island for wineries, pumpkin patch, and dinner out.  I am the designated driver, so Sheffield may drink freely.  At our last stop, the restaurant for our anniversary dinner, he gets going on an Irish dialect and can't stop.  Sometimes he drives me crazy, but I have to admit he's Magically Delicious.

Oct. 12:  35 weeks.  The wise baby websites tell me that Froo is the size of a Coconut.

Oct 13: Or, do they mean pumpkin?

Oct 14:  Second to last day of work.  This is the first time I want to go home because I am physically uncomfortable.  I work till 11:00 PM.  But they pay for my cab fare home.

 

Oct 15:  Last day of work.  I don't get home till midnight.  But my employers hired a massage therapist who offers 15 minute chair massages (Am I dreaming?  This is the working pregnant woman's DREAM COME TRUE!)  And later in the night, they order five large pizzas.  One of them is mushroom.  (Now I know I'm dreaming.)  And they pay for my cab fare home.  I'm not dreaming.  Just a classy sendoff, thank you very much.

Oct 16:  I get a serious phone call about my friend who is sick with cancer.  I sit down in Union Square Park and cry.

Oct 17:  My friend has died.  He was my college classmate, my first real-world roommate, and we named each other "soul mate."  I sit in the OB office for fetal monitoring where the room fills with my unborn baby's heartbeat.

This
is
the
way
the
world
works.
Is it not?

Thank you for reading.  Assuming I don't go into labor, (I am past 38 weeks as I create this post) I'll try to kickoff the next one with something very funny.  For you, yes, and in honor of my very funny soul-mate friend.